My mum literally had to clap her hands when she found out that I ironed my clothes in the morning one day.
I am not proud that Samantha Sweeting breathes and lives out of the pages of the book through me. But I'm not going to force myself to be a Cinderella either.
I think I'm old enough to know how to iron, at the very least wash, my own clothes, prepare my own food, do home stuff, etc. Some things I know but I just hate doing.
I do like cleaning though because I can't work and think and move a single muscle with all the visual clutter. In fact, I believe that years from now, once my dream house is built, it's going to be the daintiest in the neighborhood. People would be ashamed to lay a toe on its shiny floors. And then I'll have people to do my laundry and dishes and all those Stepford wife stuff.
Some might call it arrogance. People would say to a woman that she has to know how to cook or do the laundry because she IS a woman--because she is going to be somebody's missus someday.
What the, huh?
If I'm going to learn how to cook that Chopseuy, I am going to do it for myself and not because society or my husband dictates it.
Life is too short to just force yourself into candy molds that would only satisfy somebody else's sweet tooth. Besides, everyone's free and undomestic in their own way.
Tsk. I should really stop watching House.
Post a Comment